✏️ Legal Pad
The Accidental Gift of Oversharing
Social media has made jury selection easier than it’s ever been.
Not because the law changed. Not because voir dire got longer. But because people now voluntarily publish their opinions, habits, grievances, hobbies, political philosophies, favorite flavors of ice cream, and late-night thoughts for the entire world to see.
In the not-too-long-ago days, jury selection was a careful dance. You submitted broad questions. You watched body language. You tried to infer bias from tone, posture, and carefully worded responses. And despite what some lawyers will admit, you absolutely profiled jurors based on how similar they might be to your client. Anyone who says otherwise is lying.
Now, a few clicks can reveal whether someone has strong views about corporate accountability, law enforcement, personal responsibility, or whether they’ve publicly declared that “lawsuits are just cash grabs.”
From a purely practical standpoint, it’s an extraordinary tool. It allows lawyers to spot landmines before stepping on them. It helps identify jurors whose worldview may clash sharply with the facts of a case. It brings clarity to a process that once relied heavily on instinct.
But there’s an irony in it.
The reason jury selection is easier is because people overshare. Constantly. Unfiltered opinions. Emotional reactions. Public declarations that feel harmless in the moment but carry weight later. What feels like casual commentary online can become a roadmap to bias in a courtroom.
The jury system remains the great equalizer. Twelve ordinary people deciding facts. But in the digital age, those ordinary people arrive with searchable histories.
Convenient for trial lawyers? Absolutely.
Healthy for society? Absolutely not. Keep your avocado toast pictures to yourself. Or better yet, don’t take a picture at all- just eat the damn thing.
💡 Sidebar
March Madness in Greenville
March Madness is rolling back into Greenville, and there’s something uniquely electric about seeing NCAA tournament games played here. The bracket doesn’t care about rankings. It doesn’t care about expectations. It only cares about who survives the next 40 minutes. Some of us even still fill out paper brackets.
To win a national championship, a team has to win six games in a row. And each one gets harder. Better opponents. Tighter margins. Higher stakes. There’s no coasting. No “we’ll figure it out next week.” It’s survive and advance. Or fail and go home.
I try to imagine trying six cases in six consecutive weeks, each one sharper, tougher, more demanding than the last. The margin for error shrinks. The mental fatigue compounds. And the only way to stay upright is preparation, discipline, and conditioning.
Conditioning might be the most underrated piece. Not just physical stamina, but mental endurance, the ability to stay focused deep into a long afternoon, to sharpen instead of dull under pressure. The fictional detective, Sherlock Holmes’ superpower isn’t higher intellect- it’s his ability to focus on one, singular problem until he’s unraveled it.
In March, talent matters. But mental conditioning carries the day. The same is true in the courtroom.
⚖️ Closing Arguments
Things went sideways in Key West this year. Mostly in the form of my mother-in-law’s ankle.
She broke her ankle while we were down there, which allowed me to officially mark “Lower Keys Medical Center” off my Key West bingo card. I’ve been going to the Keys since I was a kid and, up until this year, LCMC had been one local attraction I’d successfully avoided.
But, what I’ll remember most about this unique adventure was how professional and responsive the first responders and hospital staff were. Calm. Efficient. Patient. Which, when you think about it, must be an extraordinary challenge in a place where most of the population is on vacation and operating under the fallacy that nothing bad happens on vacation. It takes a special kind of composure to provide serious medical care in a town better known for pirates, sunsets, and rum drinks.
The irony wasn’t lost on us. One minute it’s palm trees and island time. The next minute it’s X-rays and crutches.
The good news: she’s recovering comfortably and well. The better news: I now have a story to lord over her head for the rest of my days. And it’s the kind of story that will only improve with age.
The scooter privileges, however, have been permanently revoked. She has officially been benched from the Key West scooter gang indefinitely. The lesson? Even on island time, gravity doesn’t take a vacation.
Here’s to quick recoveries, steady footing, and maybe sticking to walking next time.
Court is in recess- see you next Friday.
